Literally!  Had my lovely dark brown hairs ”highlighted” last night.  The gray has really gone haywire and it was getting very noticeable between touchups.  Premature graying is a marvelous byproduct of the lovely thyroid milady I suffer from which is due, in part, to the wonderful Anorexia suffered through for a couple of years.  So my hairdresser convinced me that they (notice this is plural) would be less noticeable with blonder hair and Mr. H. was all for it.  My name is Roxanne now, or at least until Mr. H. gets used to having a blond wife and starts calling me by my real name again – lol.  I don’t mind, he said it is like getting some “strange” without having to cheat or get in trouble for it.  So his name is Marco the pool boy for now. He minds very well, doesn’t mind an occasional butt smacking, looks great in the hot pink Speedo, rubs my feet when I demand and fetches glasses and glasses of correctly chilled wine!  What more could a girl want besides 2 Marco’s?

The other reason that I am blond is because I stopped off to roast my skin at the local tanning booth on the way home.  Now after sitting in the hairdresser’s chair for 2 hours I had to pee like racehorse Jones by the time I arrived at Planet Tan so after checking in got directions to the co-ed bathroom.  Once I’m behind the locked bathroom door, drop my pants and panties, sit on the toilet and start to pee.  My mind is racing 200 miles a minute, thinking of all the things I need to do and probably should have done instead of spending 2 hours visiting my hairdresser.  I’m feeling very guilty for also stopping by to spend another 20 minutes away from home tanning.  Then it hits me!  No really, it was hitting me, my pee that is.  My mind finally focused back in the present and I had the awful realization that my pee was bouncing back up and hitting me, you know, down there.  EWWWWW!

Let’s get real here, I’m a 40 year old woman who has had 3 kiddos and stopping a stream of pee that is going at full force is not going to happen so I had to search for other options.  I shift my butt backwards, no luck, still getting hit with my own pee.  What now, what now?  Ok, I’ll try rotating my hips to see if I can get the pee to hit the water and not whatever it is currently bouncing back off of.  No luck, so I grab my jeans and yank them down to my ankles, open my legs wider and bend over – ahhhhh, finally, no pee bouncing back up.  Too bad I was finishing up about this time.  So now I’m in the bathroom at Planet Tan trying to give my bottom half a quick sponge bath in the inadequately small sink with stinky hand soap and rough paper towels and you guessed it – they call my name.  Tee he he.

If you have any age on you at all, don’t even try to tell me that you haven’t had something similar happen to you.  Liar, liar, pants on fire!